


Danse Macabre

by WayWardWatson



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Halloween, It's actually very sweet I swear!, M/M, Mavin, Slow Dancing, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWatson/pseuds/WayWardWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To celebrate the Halloween spirit, enjoy a slightly different take with accepting death. </p><p>There were three things that Gavin realized when he grabbed that hand:<br/>1) That the ancient legends were crap and the underworld was, in fact, not underground.<br/>2) That he was dead<br/>And<br/>3) No one told him dancing with Death was required.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danse Macabre

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the fic and have a happy Halloween (Or October 31st if you don't celebrate).

Gavin looked up at the figure in black and cringed at their no face and its shadowy form. He blinked, and turned wildly around, taking in the vast grey environment that surrounded the two figures. He wasn’t sure where exactly he had last been. His mind jumbled around memories and images of the office, of his old home, of the stream and local restaurants, of an English backyard and a Texan pool deck. Yet, he was unable to pinpoint the last, real memory before coming to this place. The shadowy figure hardly helped, as it remained erect in it's central spot, a location that held an undertone of pivotal importance – that, should it move, it would imbalance these important weights that would upset their reality’s very nature.

Or, at least, that was just what Gavin thought.

He stared at the figure’s stretched out palm and wondered if he was meant to grab it. Gavin pinched his forearm, but felt no pain. This was a dream then, Gavin looked back at the creature, or nightmare. Hardly mattered, Gavin smirked, and envisioned the creature away as the city of Austin materialized within his mind. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the bustling streets, but only the grey mist greeted him. He scrunched his eyes together and tried to wake up, only to see that he had not moved and that the creature was still there, hand outstretched. He cringed; he had one more option. With one more nervous glance at the creature’s nonexistent face (and a desperate three clicks of the heels), Gavin stepped forward and took the thing’s hand. 

It was then that he realized three things.

He was dead; this ‘underworld’, limbo (whatever) was a crack of bull because it hardly looked like a cave; and no one told him that he had to dance with Death.

The hand was cold, but could not bother Gavin, as the creature took a more passive role in their waltz. Faint music built up and surprisingly played in a cheerful tune. Gavin moved his feet in time, stance impersonal and distanced, and nearly lost his footing when the grey world shifted around them.

They were dancing on green grass, the blue sky obscured by a lone, tall tree, and the fence acting as their silent audience. He gasped at his old backyard, watching the shades of his old slow mo projects appear and disappear; the water balloon, his cat, the soda cans – all-flickering in and out with the music. He twirled his partner, but his eyes were memorized as the environment shifted to Dan’s grandparent’s backyard, he sucked in a breath. He looked back towards the creature, but there was no longer a shadow. Dan grinned down at Gavin, dressed in his ripped, paint splattered lab coat. Gavin looked down at himself, shocked to see he was wearing his lab coat as well. Despite the height difference, Gavin stayed as the lead, directing Dan, personal space gradually decreasing centimeter by spin.

But as they twirled, as the music shifted, new hands morphed. Soon, the arms were covered in sleeves and Dan’s clean face and wide eyes shifted to whiskers and lilted baby blues. Geoff smirked down at Gavin, quickly shifting their stance as he took control. He untangled their conjoined hands, wrapping his arm around Gavin’s mid-back, forcing Gavin to place his hand on his shoulder. They swayed to the music inside the Ramsey house, at the corner of his eyes he could see Griffon and Millie dancing along – but it was like still-photos; snapshots and faded laughter that seemed to get fainter until it was drowned under the instruments.

The scene shifted again and he was no longer at the Ramsey home.

He took in the sight of RTX, somehow empty and full simultaneously. He looked back at Geoff, a question on his lips, but Geoff was gone and Ray grinned back at him. Gavin couldn’t help but crack a grin at Ray’s costume, the bright green sheen really bringing out the dark in his hair. He knew he was wearing his Vav costume and, for a moment, the music’s crescendo sounded akin to the audiences roar. Faintly he could hear Ray, leaning by him, remembering the nervous anticipation that they both held before they sprinted through the crowds. Then the music dropped and RTX dimmed, taking Ray into the shadows. Just as quickly, the room brightened, and Gavin – still not missing a beat – squinted in the harsh lighting.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and his breath caught.

He was back home. He grinned at the Achievement Hunter office, at the green wall, the game library, at each one of their cluttered desks. Above him, he could hear the faint steps of the Rooster Teeth employees, and while the door was shut, across he could hear Barbara, Lindsay, and Miles talking in the hall. Then, he realized, he was still dancing. His arms, in gradual comfort, had wrapped around a strong neck as two warm hands pressed against his lower and mid back.  His body barely a centimeter away from the others, his head titled away but brushing cheeks.

He pulled away, staring into the brown eyes of Michael.

The lights were surreal, as if someone had a blurred filter over it, until Gavin realized that the reason the room was so blurred was because tears were running down his face. Michael softly smiled at Gavin, finally pausing their dance, only to press his hand against the back of Gavin’s head, until Gavin comfortably tucked his nose into the curve of his neck. Their bodies finally pushed together as Michael’s hand returned and slowly pressed against his back. Gavin clutched at Michael’s jacket, crying, as they gradually stopped dancing, only swaying on their feet.

The music is dying.

Its tempo is growing fainter as its music gracefully slows to its inevitable end. He’s afraid to open his eyes, afraid to see Rooster Teeth gone, afraid that Michael will disappear and in his arms will stand death, waiting. Yet, it is inevitable because the music does die, and the light glow that had fallen upon his closed lids dims to darkness, and even Michael’s warmth is swallowed under by the growing cold chill; but Gavin clings on, unready for his dance to end, unready to let go of the light, his purpose, and his closets friends.

The lad whimpers into Death’s shoulder, as the creature withdraws its shadowy hand and takes its cloak, draping it over as a veil for his soul and the grey world became no more.

Death became no more.

Gavin was gone. 


End file.
